Untitled
by Fyre Dancer
Summary: A story in the manner of Cat-Skin and Thousand-Furs, but with a twist. Ellion Lindale was to be her mother's replacement, but she had no intention of fulfilling her father's dark wish, instead leaving the stronghold and traveling the lands as a hired blade and adventurer. Full summary inside, rated T for later and because I'm paranoid. Untitled for now, R&R's and Ideas appreciated
1. Prologue

**Ellion Lindale was to be her mother's replacement, but she had no intention of fulfilling her father's dark wish, instead leaving the stronghold and traveling the lands as a hired blade and adventurer. When her father snaps and begins a campaign to conquer as much of the lands around him until he should find her, it's up to Ellion and a few unlikely companions to stop him.**

Prologue

Surface raid. The two words strung together in a phrase or as part of a sentence had always struck a chord of dread deep inside of Jerrek Ter' Veuren's heart, and this time was no exception. The only reason this time was in any way different was that he had decided to leave the Underdark for good, and now he checked his bow and counted his arrows.

Elves were generally the main targets, the goal always complete extermination unless slaves were required, although they never lived very long. So far Jerrek himself had never killed a single surface elf, and in fact the very idea sickened him. He knew however that the lack of bloodshed on his part would eventually lead him into trouble. If the priestesses once caught onto his charade of faithful bodyguard he would be through. There were any number of horrors the cruel females would inflict on him, many of which he knew, having helped serve orders for more than one unfortunate who'd angered them. He was more terrified by what he knew they would do than by any threat, real or imagined, of the surface races. He decided that though he didn't fully understand them, he would rather brave the wrath of the surface elves than that of the priestesses of Lolth.

He took some initiative on this foray and the priestesses, although uneasy at the change, permitted him, thinking that he had decided to win some glory for himself. Jerrek, who was unusually tall for an elf in general and for a drow in particular, naturally worked better on his own, and they knew it. Because of this as much as anything else he was allowed to choose his own position and so he moved off. He scouted the perimeter of the elven camp and noted that there seemed to be no children, and also that the elves there were readying weapons as if they anticipated having to use them.

He was relieved that this time there would be no massacre, and at the same time wondered if it might improve his chances of survival on the surface at all if he aided the elves. He had no time to consider longer however, for at that point the drow attacked. Attacked and were sorely disappointed when the elves failed to turn and run screaming, instead drawing their own weapons and fiercely defending themselves. Right then he knew that, chances improved or not, he was meant to help the elves.

He now had to choose a target, and he settled on one of the weapons masters, but just as he was knocking the arrow there was a surprised and angry shout from behind him and he ducked, dodging around the tree, then he heard the elf's arrow lodge in the trunk. The only thing that had saved Jerrek was the fact that the elf had been surprised.

He dropped to his stomach and slithered away through the undergrowth, knowing that the elf would come looking for him eventually. He knew he'd be caught at some point, but at least it need not be now. When he felt he'd gone far enough to escape detection for the time being he returned his attention to the battle. He found he'd erred somehow though because now he had no clear shots at any of the other drow.

He contented himself with watching for the moment, and one elf in particular caught his eye. She was, to his way of thinking, as perfectly formed and beautiful as a female of any race could be, with long ebony hair that shimmered as she moved, flawless pale skin, and large dark grey eyes that shown a brilliant blue as she flickered them between infravision and normal sight, and she had a skill with blades that would have made many a weapons master burn with envy. She was lightning fast, her whirling blades weaving a furious dance and setting the two fighters attacking her back on their heels. If these two survived her, they would likely think twice before attacking the next time they met a swashbuckler.

He glanced away from her for a moment and realized that he wasn't the only one watching her. The drow across the clearing was just starting to reload his crossbow and Jerrek didn't hesitate. He knocked an arrow, drew, and fired, his shot taking the surprised crossbowman in the eye. The drow was dead before he hit the ground and Jerrek was again free to watch the elf. Free, that is, until he was presented with another target.

He killed several more crossbowmen, and then he got the shot he'd been waiting for. He had the priestess dead to rights, her protection spell weakened and nearly spent, and then he suddenly realized that it was starting to get lighter at one edge of the sky. The priestesses did too and they called off the attack, and one by one those drow who could scurried away toward their holes, and those who were either too slow or too badly wounded were either given a brief skirmish and quick death or taken prisoner until the elves could decide what to do with them.

Jerrek slung his bow across his back and sank down into the undergrowth in an attempt not to be seen. The pretty swashbuckler began wandering around, tending indiscriminately to both her fallen comrades and the wounded drow, Jerrek himself keeping still and scarcely daring to breath for fear of being discovered.

She didn't seem interested in anything other than what she was doing however, keeping her gaze trained on the ground, and Jerrek got the distinct impression that she knew he was there but was ignoring him. He took the hint and scooted back into the forest for two or three yards, then stood up and turned around intending to run, but instead collided with an elf who had his dagger out and ready. The very same elf, Jerrek noted with more than a little irony as the dagger slid through the links in his chain mail, who had shot at him before. Jerrek managed to stop the blade before it went in far enough to do him much lasting damage, but only just, and then he too was put in chains.

Being confined with the other drow was not pleasant, as they seemed to have figured out that it was mostly his fault that they were in their predicament, and those who had the energy wasted no time in heaping as many insults on his head as they could come up with. He simply held his wound shut and did his best to ignore them, and the pain made it a good deal easier.

It was a long time before anyone paid him any mind, and most of the others had passed out from the pain of their wounds or just exhaustion before anyone went near them. When they did, Jerrek was grateful, though not entirely surprised to see the young swashbuckler. She studied them all in turn, paying special attention to some and barely sparing a glance for others, and then she straightened up and looked Jerrek full in the face. He was interested enough that he forgot to drop his gaze. She smiled at him, put a finger to her lips in a slightly peculiar manner, and dropped the pack that had been hanging from her shoulder and resting easily on her hip into his lap, and with a final half smile half smirk she slinked off.

He wasn't at first sure what he was meant to do, but soon curiosity got the better of him and he looked inside the bag. He wasn't entirely sure what some of the items were, namely a set of four small vials filled with an unidentified liquid which gave off a sweet and slightly spicy yet pleasant fragrance when he sniffed them. The rest of the pack's contents were self-explanatory; a small supply of trail rations, a dagger, a small pouch which turned out to be extra bowstrings, a small jar that appeared to contain a healing salve of some sort, and a set of thieves' tools. These he put to good use and within a few minutes he was free.

Once out of the camp he discovered a different bow and a quiver full of arrows seemingly waiting just for him, and rather than be choosy he picked them up and, hanging them across his back, walked away into the night making no more noise and leaving no more sign than the wind whispering through the grass.


	2. Chapter 1

**Alright, yes I have neglected this for a long while, but it was sort of necessary as I have apparently hit a wall in my ability to write for them for quite some time. But, for anyone with suggestions, I would dearly love to hear them in a review or a PM. Peace! :3**

Chapter 1

Ellion Lindale had just come back into Tarden where she'd been working for the local Merchant's Guild as a caravan guard and now she was watching and listening as the guild master attempted to reason with one of the newer guild members. Finally the elf grew tired of the display, and politely cleared her throat to announce her presence. "Ah, Morwen, good. I promise Jofar, I will deal with your problem at my earliest opportunity," the guild master said as he ushered the man out, then he turned to a younger man whom Ellion had noticed earlier, "Sabin, if you would?"

"Certainly," Sabin said, casting what he apparently thought was a charming smile in Ellion's direction as he offered her his chair. Ellion merely nodded and accepted the proffered seat.

"Now, Morwen, ah, I am very sorry to call on you on such short notice after your last trip," the guild master said, "but you are the best trail guard we have at the moment. Now, down to business. Sabin here is the guard captain with the caravan that just came in headed for the Mage Tower at Eidenon, and he informs me that they have had more than the usual trouble on this particular journey."

"That's right," Sabin said, "Spell components always invite a fair amount of trouble simply because they're so valuable, but recently things have become progressively worse than usual. The first week or so the only trouble we had were the usual goblins and lowlife humans out to make a quick gold piece or three, but after that…"

"Can you elaborate?" Ellion asked when he trailed off.

"The only thing I know is that during the last skirmish four guards were killed, or at least we think they were, and another was badly injured," Sabin said, "It's been three days and still she remains unconscious."

Ellion nodded and asked, "With your leave Guild Master?"

"Granted," the guild master said, "You will go with them then, Morwen?"

"Yes, I intend to do what I can," Ellion replied, "After they are safe however I believe I must take my leave. I feel I have remained already far too long in one region."

"I'll not ask you to explain," the guild master said, "though you will be sorely missed. Here is your advance payment for the coming trip, and your payment for your last assignment, with a little something extra in case you ever need it. Farewell, and may the gods of light watch over you."

"And over you Guild Master. Thank you for your kindness and understanding," Ellion replied, "Now, Sabin… If it is not too much to ask, I should like to see your fallen comrade before I decide what supplies I will need."

"We took Della to the temple of Pelor this morning immediately after we arrived," Sabin said, "She may be unavailable, but you might speak with either the cleric Mendel, or the high priest Dinesh. They are the ones into whose care we submitted her."

"Thank you Sabin, you have been very helpful," Ellion said, "I shall go and speak with the holy men and then I believe I shall rest. You should do the same. I will meet you at the guild house, mid morning tomorrow so we can gather any supplies we might need."

"Alright, I will inform the others," Sabin said, and he and Ellion went their separate ways.

Ellion entered the temple just as the evening devotions were being concluded, and she waited patiently until they were fully ended. "Welcome friend," a young cleric said cheerfully as she noticed Ellion, "Might I be of service to you?"

"Actually you might," Ellion smiled, "I am part of the caravan guard for the merchants travelling to the mage tower. Would it be possible for me to speak with the High Priest Dinesh?"

"Yes, I believe Father Dinesh is available at this time," the cleric smiled in return, "Brother Mendel is with him right now as well. I am Sister Leila. May I ask your name?"

"I am called Morwen," Ellion replied.

"Interesting name," Leila commented.

"It is that," Ellion laughed.

"Alright, here is Father Dinesh's study," Leila smiled, "I must leave you here. Should you need anything else, please feel free to ask; one of us will help you to the best of his or her ability."

"Thank you Sister Leila," Ellion smiled.

"You are welcome Morwen," Leila replied, and she left. Ellion knocked on the door Leila had shown her to and a strong masculine voice called, "Enter." Ellion did, and the man greeted her warmly. "Welcome, welcome," he exclaimed, "Please, sit. I am Father Dinesh, high priest of Pelor, and this is Brother Mendel."

"I am called Morwen," Ellion replied with a smile.

"It is a great pleasure to meet you," Father Dinesh said, "Now tell me, what is it you need, are you seeking aid of some sort?"

"Yes, I am actually," Ellion replied, "I have just been hired as a guard on the caravan bound for the mage tower, and I was wondering if you could tell me what we might do to prepare ourselves, possibly give us an idea of what we might come across."

"Well, it is difficult to say for sure what you might run into," Father Dinesh told her, "I believe that some of what your fellows have encountered already are undead. The young woman seems to be suffering from some strange type of undead disease such as ghoul fever or the like, albeit a modified one. It may take some time before we can find or create a spell or potion that will effectively destroy the disease and leave the victim unharmed." Although she said nothing, at the word 'modified' Ellion began to suspect that there was more to this than met the eye; the last such thing she'd seen modified had come out of her father's laboratory. "I am sorry to hear that," Ellion said quietly, "What would you suggest?"

"There are magical items that will help and even grant immunity from these effects if they are already being worn prior to encountering a disease carrier," Father Dinesh said, "but these are hard to come by. Such a thing often costs a small fortune in gold."

"Other remedies include drinking the mummy's tea when infected by an undead poison or supernatural disease, spells such as remove poison or cure disease, and wands that essentially carry a certain number of charges of these spells," Brother Mendel added, "The problem is that none of these remedies seem to have any effect on this particular strain. Whomever is responsible for this infection must be a powerful necromancer indeed."

"I do not know if we have any such magic on hand, and from what you say it may not help, but it is worth a try and I will ask them tomorrow," Ellion said, "Thank you both for your time, you have been most helpful."

"Half a moment," Father Dinesh said, "I believe we can help you improve your chances considerably. Would you and the caravan be open to taking one of our clerics with you?"

"If the cleric wishes to go we would be more than happy to have him," Ellion smiled, "We need all the help we can get at this point, if any of you wish to aid us we will gladly accept."

"Should I prepare to accompany them Father?" Mendel asked.

"You plan to go with them then?" Father Dinesh inquired.

"If you have no pressing need of me, then yes," Mendel answered.

"It is alright, I was merely curious," Father Dinesh said, "Farewell my brother; may the light of Pelor guide your way and may his blessings preserve you."

"And you also Father," Mendel said, "Farewell."

"Farewell Father, and thank you," Ellion said.

"Farewell Morwen," Father Dinesh smiled, "and perhaps we shall meet again under fairer skies." Ellion nodded and she and Mendel left. "When were you planning on departing on the final journey for the mage tower?" Mendel asked.

"That depends on the merchants," Ellion said, "They may have need of supplies and more guards; I could be ready to travel by morning, however I am meeting with the wagon master and guard captain midmorning tomorrow in the guild hall."

"Then I shall plan to meet with you there as well," Mendel said, "Be safe Morwen."

"And you," Ellion replied, and she and the cleric parted company. Ellion purchased what weapons and provisions she felt she would need, then returned to the guild house for the night.

Ellion was up early that morning, had completed her own morning devotions, given her equipment a final once-over, taken breakfast and was sitting in the guild common room eating and reading when everyone else showed up. Unfortunately, the chief merchant had decided to accompany Sabin and the wagon master, and he was none too pleased to see Brother Mendel. "What is the meaning of this?!" he demanded, "I hired no cleric!"

"No one hired him, he graciously offered his assistance," Ellion said, "And in any event, if we are going to be fighting undead then I think we would do well to accept."

"And how much will he request for his services?" the merchant groaned.

"I ask nothing for myself in return for the aid I offer," Mendel said quietly, "I would ask only that you make a simple donation to the temple of Pelor at your convenience."

"Alright, you may come along if you must," the merchant grumbled, "though I cannot promise how substantial a donation I shall make." Ellion refrained from informing the man that, even with her own suspicions and knowledge, Mendel might well be the only one with the necessary abilities to save their necks. "All that aside," the wagon master said, "we've made every possible provision. Oil, tinder-twigs, plenty of cloth strips and torches, minor enchantments on most of the weapons…"

"I've hired every guardsman who was willing to go with us," Sabin said, "They aren't many, but I believe that with the proper leadership they will be enough."

"Good. My own equipment is packed and ready," Ellion said, "I am prepared. As soon as the word is given we may leave."

"I shall have to speak with my fellows," the chief merchant said, "However, at the latest I shall call for you all early tomorrow morning."

"We will be ready," Ellion promised. Sabin smiled and waved to Ellion as he and the other two left; she merely nodded in return and went back to her food. Mendel did not miss the exchange. "I do believe the young captain fancies you," he commented.

"I endeavor not to encourage him," she said flatly, "Such dallying creates only trouble."

"Sometimes," Mendel conceded, "but not always. Sometimes it's simply a matter of what you want."

"In my experience what I wanted somehow never seemed to count for much," Ellion said quietly.

"As to that, I can say nothing other than I am sorry," he said softly, "and I know that doesn't really make a difference. But I do know this, that to be in love, real love, is the most amazing thing one can experience."

"And you have been in love, truly?" Ellion asked, looking at him curiously.

"As surely as I'm speaking to you now," he said.

"And now..?" she asked softly.

"She and I simply grew apart," he said, "We were young. But I would not trade having shared three years of my life with her for anything in the world."

"I suppose it does make sense," Ellion said, "Even though I have memories I would rather forget, mixed with them are others that I love dearly."

"And so you see," Mendel smiled, "Give it time my friend. Sometimes all it takes is a little time. I shall see you tomorrow Morwen, be safe." With that he got up and walked out of the guild hall, leaving Ellion alone with her thoughts.


End file.
